


Bird and Bolt

by GuardianLioness



Series: Young Justice Platonic Soulbond AU [1]
Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, Platonic Relationships, Platonic Soulbond AU, Platonic Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 10:34:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14400336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuardianLioness/pseuds/GuardianLioness
Summary: After the death of his parents, Robin has exactly two active soul bonds: Alfred’s and Bruce’s. He’s contented with that, but that doesn’t stop him from wondering about the other faint, inactive lines etched into his skin. When he and a new ally are benched during their first two-sidekick team-up mission, he spots a familiar mark, gets a new friend, and pulls a stunt that will make Bruce distinctly unhappy.Gen/platonic soul mark AU in which individuals have marks foreveryonevitally important in their lives.





	Bird and Bolt

Robin leads the way into the Batcave, hugging his cape tight around his body and glancing over his shoulder at Kid Flash, who hesitates on the threshold. “He’s not going to bite your head off, you know. He sent us here.”

“I know, but we’re missing all the good stuff.” Kid is wheezing and shaking, eyes dull with exhaustion, but he’s also right. Flash and Batman are still chasing the crook that they’ve been hunting for weeks. After the first confrontation went pear-shaped, B told them to make a tactical retreat.

Mouth tilted in a skeptical frown, the speedster steps through the door, and Robin secures it behind them. “If you’re sure I won’t wake up with a Batarang in my chest.”

“If there was a Batarang in your chest, you wouldn’t wake up,” Robin snickers, “but B doesn’t kill people, just so you know.”

Kid Flash’s shoulders relax, but they’re still trembling, even though Robin is no longer riding on his back and they haven’t been moving at superspeed for at least 10 minutes. “You okay?” Robin asks, gesturing to the tunnel that leads into the main cavern.

“Peachy.” The response is clipped, so Robin takes it as a no, but before he can press the question, Kid Flash’s neon green eyes shoot open at the sight of the dinosaur and giant penny against the far wall. “Woah.”

Robin grins. “It’s okay, I guess.”

Kid Flash’s mouth opens and closes, but he doesn’t say anything — for once. They’ve only been collaborating for about two weeks, and “chatter” is looking more and more like one of the default powers granted by the speed force.

As they head over toward the Batcomputer to monitor their mentors’ performance from a distance, the other sidekick’s steps falter. Robin whirls, but the other kid is already sinking to his knees. “Dude, what is up?

“Blood sugar,” he mutters, leaning back. “Burned through my reserve snacks before that last chase, so I’m running on empty.” When Robin doesn’t respond right away, his expression shifts to something a little more self conscious. “Is it okay if I just sit here? Flash’ll get something for me when he gets back.”

“Blood sugar?” Flash didn’t seem like the kind of guy to put a kid with health issues in the middle of a battle, even with superpowers.

“Super fast body, super fast metabolism. It’s a problem for Flash too.”

“Oh.” That was logical. KF had been gnawing on granola bars off and on all night, and B had probably sent them home with that weakness in mind. “One sec, don’t move.”

Trusting the speedster’s exhaustion to keep him from wandering, Robin darts up through the exit of the bat cave, sealing the clock entrance behind him. He’ll get an earful from Alfred when he finds out about a trip upstairs in the Robin suit, but it’s nothing compared to the trouble he’d get into for changing into civvies with another mask in the cave.

Darting into the kitchen, he grabs the plate of chocolate chip cookies Alfred left out on the counter, pulls a jug of milk from the fridge, and tucks two cups under his arm. He makes it back in a time that’s pretty impressive for someone without lightning in his veins to find Kid Flash leaning back and tugging at the edges of his cowl.

Kid’s eyes bug out again when Robin passes him the plate, sits down on the cave floor, and pours milk for the both of them. They sit there in relative silence, both stuffing their faces. The speedster’s posture and expression improves almost immediately, the characteristic, Flash-brand constant motion returning as his fingers tap against the glass.

Robin hums a sound of contentment as they finish the cookies and starts to resume their interrupted computer plan when Kid slips his thumbs under his canary yellow mask and yanks it back and over his head. Robin’s face tips down, averting his gaze with such speed that he feels a muscle twinge in his neck.

“Dude, it’s fine,” Kid Flash says. “My uncle says that Bats already knows who we are. Said it was cool if you found out my ID too. If he trusts you, so do I.”

“Right,” Robin says, still feeling vaguely off center. He makes his way toward the computer without looking at KF’s face and boots it up while the other hero stands to join him by the monitors.

The Flash is Kid’s uncle. As much as he tries to get the idea out of his head, he can’t. How did Kid get into the hero game? How’d he discover his powers? Why did the Flash let him join the fight?

Robin, as an identity, only exists for dark reasons. Hopefully Kid Flash isn’t a product of similar circumstances.

He waits until the Batcomputer has booted up the street camera tracking algorithm to search for signs of the battle and Kid Flash is staring intently at the screens to sneak a look at his face.

Kid is as close to gaunt as he can get without Robin being concerned. He’s angular, lean and hungry in the typical teenage way, but moreso. If they hadn’t just had the whole metabolism talk, it’d be worrying, especially combined with how pale he is. He looks washed out, the lack of color only broken by the freckles across his nose and a faint scar, like a crescent, around the corner of his eye.

A smirk crawls onto Kid’s face when he realizes that Robin is examining him. “The name’s Wallace West,” he says, turning to offer a hand. “Though most people call me Wally.” As he moves, the scar on his face hits the light.

It’s not a scar. It’s not a scar, and Robin has never been so grateful for his mask, because without it, his expression would be distinctly unschooled.

It’s the outline of his mark. The same one that lights up blue along the back of B’s right wrist and Alfred’s left forearm, the one that used to grace his mother’s shoulder and his father’s collarbone.

That’s his bond mark, and it’s on Kid Flash’s — Wallace West’s — face.

This is one of the few things he has no protocol for. He really should schedule a conversation with B about this. What to do if your bond mark shows up on another hero, or — and he really hopes that it’s not a real risk — a villain.

Wally’s expression falls when Robin doesn’t reach out, but he laughs to ease the tension and turns back to the wall of monitors. “Anyway, good to meet you, Rob. Hope I didn’t slow you down too much tonight.”

“You? Slow?” Robin cackles, and the sarcastic tone in both of their voices is enough to help him regain his balance. In the span of the brief exchange, he’s made up his mind.

He’s made up his mind and B’s going to _kill_ him, but Wally is the only person even vaguely close to his age he’s met with his bond mark. And on top of it, he’s just cool. A little twitchy, a little loud, but cool. Straightforward, laid back, and just as into the hero game as Robin is.

“It could happen,” Wally quips. “You saw what happened when I ran out of juice tonight.”

The algorithm on the computer finally finds the fight. Flash is front and center, the glare of his lightning trail pulsing and throwing the camera sensors into disarray. B is out of sight, but he’s there. The flare of explosive-laden Batarangs is a telltale giveaway.

Lightning. Of course. That one must be Wally’s.

Robin has never had to tell anyone about a bond before. His parents’ had activated long before he had lucid memories. B had just…known, and the blue glow had even helped convince the court that he was the best option for custody. Alfred’s ignited after only a few weeks at Wayne Manor, when he found Dick — not Robin, not yet — crying in a closet when everything became too much.

Robin’s not sure he knows _how_ to tell anyone about it, so there’s no time to argue the semantics in his head. “Hey, sorry for locking up on you. It’s just…that’s mine.”

Wally tips his head in confusion for a moment, and then his face goes blank, and Robin understands exactly what he himself looked like underneath the mask. The speedster’s hand shoots up, tracing along the outline of the crescent. “You’re not joking?” His voice is pitchy, panicked.

Robin shakes his head stiffly, and, bracing himself against the computer console, tears off his left boot. A Lichtenberg figure inks across the top of his foot and ankle in thin trails. “That’s yours, right?”

He’s rewarded with a slow nod, and, hesitant, starts to ask the all-important question, but Wally has already started to pull off his glove before Robin realizes that this isn’t right.

“It’s not fair,” he blurts out, and Wally stops. Before the speedster can shoot him a hurt look or ask an awkward question, Robin grasps the corner of his domino mask. “I know who you are, but you don’t know me. It’s not fair.”

“Bats’ll kill you!” Wally hisses, his eyes wide. “And me! I know how strict he is with IDs!”

“I told you, B doesn’t do murder. And…it’s not right that you only know Robin.”

“What, like Robin isn’t enough? Robin’s a freaking ninja and hacker and won’t get anyone killed! I’m perfectly happy being friends with Robin!”

“If you’re this important to me at some point,” he gestures at the lightning trails on his ankle, “I want you to know.” He doesn’t wait for another argument. He tears off the mask, wincing as the adhesive pulls at the skin around his eyes.

Wally freezes, and Robin loosens the straps on his glove and sets it aside to reach out. “Richard Grayson, formerly of Haly’s Circus, currently of Wayne Manor. Call me Dick.”

“I should, after that stunt!” Wally grumbles, but he takes the offered handshake nonetheless.

Color explodes behind Dick’s vision as they make contact. Gold and red burn in his vision, and with the shades comes a sensation of easy trust. Even the comforting feeling from his bond with Alfred wasn’t like this, wasn’t this relaxed and unassuming. There’s no sense of pretending in it. It’s honest.

The light behind his eyes fades, and as it blinks out, it appears again in the feathering lines that wrap his ankle. The crescent along the corner of Wally’s eye glows in teal blue.

He wonders, for a moment, what impression Wally got from their bond flaring. The other kid just looks stunned, but a grin slips back onto his face. “So we’re swapping phone numbers, right? I’m not letting Bats and my uncle decide the next time we talk.”

“Of course,” and Dick laughs. It’s not Robin’s acerbic cackle, but something more lighthearted. He tugs his glove back on before activating the computer stored inside and types something in to the keyboard. “Hacked your phone, it should be in your contacts now. Text me back so I can add you to mine.”

“Right.” Wally nods, reaching for the pocket on his boot that holds his civilian cell phone.

“Wait.” Dick glances back up at the screens. The fight is dying down, and with the Flash’s speed, they don’t have much time before the adults arrive. “Put your mask on first. I think they’ll figure out we didn’t exactly listen to B’s identity rules if they see that your face is now permanently blue.”

Wally snickers and tugs the cowl back over his head while Robin puts back on his shoe and re-affixes his mask. “Yeah, better have that chat with Flash back in Central City, where the Bat has to drive a few hours to find me.”

“Or he could just take the Batplane.”

Wally groans, burying his head in his hands. “You have a Batplane? Of course you have a Batplane.” Robin just watches, hopeful, while Wally pulls out his phone and types out a quick message before donning his glove again. “At least ask him not to break my legs when he figures it out? I need those.”

“Will do.” Robin cracks a smile as the crackle of energy and the roar of a motorcycle ring out from one of the entrance tunnels.

Flash and B wrap up their work for the night, and the two speedsters leave the Batcave with a warning to keep quiet about its location.

By the time Robin showers, puts on civilian gear, and makes it up to his room, his phone is has been pinged with 15 notifications, all from Wally. He scrolls through the texts, which are comprised of over a dozen questions about himself and a couple of anecdotes about life in Central City, accompanied by a copious number of lightning bolt emoticons.

Dick tries to muffle his wheezing laughter under the blankets on his bed as he types out as much of a reply as he can before the exhaustion of the night sinks in. This’ll work, having a friend who can keep pace with him rather than leaving him behind.

He’s bonded to _Kid Flash_ , and that’s pretty cool.

**Author's Note:**

> Thought I'd try something a little out of my wheelhouse. I've loved Young Justice for years, but this is my first real fic foray into the series. Concrit is absolutely welcome.
> 
> I want to make this a series of gen one-shots, so if there's a combo of characters you'd like to see, feel free to drop me a line in the comments or on Tumblr and suggest it. Find me at [GuardianLioness](http://guardianlioness.tumblr.com/) if you want to talk teen heroes in all of their forms. ^_^


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